


Coping Mechanisms

by mikimouze16



Series: One Action at a Time [10]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Coping Mechanisms, Hurt/Comfort, Psychology, Service Dogs, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-21
Updated: 2018-11-21
Packaged: 2019-08-27 04:13:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16695217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mikimouze16/pseuds/mikimouze16
Summary: After seeing how Harry struggles to deal with the trauma, Severus and Remus decide to pay the Dursley's a visit. Everyone has different styles of coping.





	Coping Mechanisms

“I’ll be okay. I can watch over myself.” His hand resting on his service dog.

The two older men hesitated for a second more before closing the door.

At the end of the sidewalk they were gone with a crack.

 

_She was talking to him in a soft voice, gently tapping his knees._

 

The house in front of them hasn’t changed in the two weeks since they’ve been there.

Nightfall fell upon the lawn and flowers in front of them.

With wands drawn they flicked their wrists, silencing the house to the outside world.

 

_She was talking to him, trying to redirect his thoughts._

 

After an illusion was cast, the potion master blasted the door inward.

The wood splintered through the hallway.

Several chunks embedded into the drywall.

 

_He was tearing up a piece of paper in his hands. Little pieces fell to the floor like snow._

 

The cursed man was once again in a halfway state.

His teeth pointed, claws poised for attack.

His eyes glowing with rage.

 

_It was a murmur when he started speaking._

 

The other man was wearing a snarl on his face.

His wand pointed at a large man.

With every step forward the rage seemed to build in him.

 

_“One pound ground beef. One onion. One can beef soup. One can mushroom soup.”_

 

If anyone could see past the illusion the would see the flashing of colors.

Cutting curses, bone breaking curses, mental curses.

And when they seemed to get ready to pass out they would heal them. And start again.

 

_The two men looked at the therapist as he continued reciting the recipe._

 

After hour one their throats were hoarse from screaming.

By hour two they had ran out of tears.

After they stopped the physical pain, they moved onto mental.

 

_She addressed the men, “It’s a form of autogenic training. A cognitive coping mechanism.”_

 

For the boy, he would feel pain.

His bones would randomly feel as if they were going to snap.

He would feel sharp pains of kicks, punches, and slaps.

 

_“Some people use mantras, some recite streets,” She turned back to Harry, “He recalls recipes.”_

 

The woman, would always look haunted.

Her skin would forever be pale, bags would hang under her eyes.

Everything in her life would be messy and unkempt.

 

_Harry had moved through the recipe and started another one. His eyes were glazed and unfocused._

 

The man would always feel pain.

His skin would always feel the fire from whippings and burns.

He would feel weakness with every step he took.

 

_Bailey had moved to Harry when he started to shake. Her nose pressing against his neck._

 

They all would always feel hungry and weak.

They would always feel unwanted and hated.

Each of them would bear this curse for the next 13 years.

 

_It was slow but his eyes seemed to focus on the dog in front of him. He pressed his forehead against hers._

 

Tired, the men threw lazy curses around the house destroying it.

The wolf burnt the flowers as he walked down the path.

The other shattered the windows before cracking away.

 

_The therapist looked at them, “Everyone copes differently.”_

  


**Author's Note:**

> I've been going through my previous works of this series and I keep finding writing mistakes. I feel like a sham. 
> 
> On another note I use autogenic mantras to help me cope with my panic attacks. I usually start with a number and double it every time. (i.e. 1, 2, 4, 8, ect.) until I can't do the math in my head anymore. It helps a lot with redirecting my attention. How do you guys cope?


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